Everything
by Andie14
Summary: “Women are lepers,” he whispered. “Remember that.” Vaysey’s warning to his new lieutenant seemed harsh but never more so than when Gisborne first laid eyes on the daughter of the old Sheriff. Set before S1-1 in the years of Robin’s absence from England.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The golden blanket of the forest floor had a gentle dusting of snow, the first of the season. The gnarled and naked branches of the oak trees stretched out across the North Road, their fingers curling downwards, as if ready to accost any rider who would dare to travel at such an hour, but there was more to be afraid of than the trees in Sherwood Forest. It was the workplace and, in many cases, the home of any number of miscreants and crooks, dead to the outside world but very much alive and active in their realm. The occupants of the carriage that was currently rumbling along the frozen ground perhaps should have known better but they were late and were determined to reach their home before full dark. Several pairs of eyes watched the progression of the carriage, each pair darting to the position of their concealed leader, waiting for his signal. The huge man with bushy, unkempt hair nodded and the small band of men appeared on the road before the carriage, weapons drawn. Their leader stepped forward, staff in hand and legs astride pushing out his chest and raising his chin in much the same way as a cat arches its back, in an attempt to appear larger. The carriage ground to a halt but the occupants did not venture out. They had lived too long in Nottingham to risk such foolhardy behaviour. Nor were they unprotected. With swords drawn, two guards jumped from the rear of the carriage. They were quickly joined by the driver and his companion who just had time to withdraw their weapons from the where they had been concealed within the body of the carriage before they were set upon by three of the giant mans' companions. Undeterred by the disparity of numbers the guards fought well and it was not long before the leader of the outlaws acknowledged his mistake and quickly called his men off, back into the forest.

"You were lucky this time!" came a cry from the relative safety of the trees. A hand reached out and pulled the man from view.

"Roy, come on," said the voice of the owner of the hand before the men vanished into the darkness of the forest.

.

Inside the carriage, the grey haired man held his daughters hand, though it was not she who was afraid but rather him. In the last months, he had seen the world he knew and understood crumble about his ears. Sir Edward, Sheriff of Nottingham was now nothing more than Sir Edward of Knighton, stripped of his rank and all associated privilege, usurped by a little known and vicious man by the name of Vaysey. Sir Edward wondered how such things could have come to be, how the country could fall so readily into the hands of such evil and how afraid he was for his young daughter who now sat beside him, resolute and unafraid, so much like her mother. In her hand, she held a rather brutal looking hair ornament, which she had withdrawn from her chestnut locks the moment the carriage had halted. Her hair fell in shining waves to her shoulders now and she was even more beautifully like the mother she had scarcely known.

"Why do you carry that, Marian?" her father asked. She turned to him and the coldness in her countenance evaporated into a warm, loving smile.

"Because you are not well enough to defend yourself, father," she replied, squeezing his hand slightly.

"You must be careful Marian. This man…this…Sheriff…he is a fiend. I have no doubt at all, that he would be prepared to hang a noblewoman. We have seen him hang children for such small offences and you are little more than a child yourself."

"Father, you must not concern yourself. You will be ill. Now, we are almost home. I shall arrange for some food and wine to be brought to you and then you must rest. These have been testing weeks for you." Marian replied in a commanding tone. Sir Edward sighed.

"You are all I have in the world, Marian. I wish that you had a little more concern for your own safety. I do not wish to lose you also," he said, sadly. Marian reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Do you really believe that I shall be so easy to lose?" she chuckled.

.

The portcullis was raised and the gateway into Nottingham yawned before him. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly reluctant. This was the place he needed to be in order to become the person he longed to be. The winter sun felt strangely warm on his face and his body burned beneath the heavy leather coat he wore. Finally he moved on, passing over the threshold followed by a contingent of guards assigned to him by the new Sheriff. The black and yellow colours seemed stark against the snow, but as the entered the walls of Nottingham they seemed to blend with the grey surroundings. The smell of rancid meat immediately assaulted his nostrils and he gagged, wondering if he would ever grow accustomed to his new surroundings. As he entered the castle grounds the stable boy took the reins and the visitor jumped from his horse, unfolding his tall, slender frame and stretching out his aching muscles.

"Gisborne," came a cry from the top of the stone steps. Sir Guy of Gisborne took a deep breath and hurried to meet his impatient employer. "Gisborne, I have a Council of Nobles due to begin. Where have you been?"

"Trouble on the North Road, my Lord. Outlaws." Gisborne replied. Vaysey rolled his eyes and turned back inside. Gisborne followed him, their footsteps echoing through the lofty corridors. Suddenly Vaysey stopped and turned to face his lieutenant.

"I have a job for you. The village of Locksley is without its master. You," he said, pointing a rather stubby and dirty finger into Gisborne's face, "You, will manage it for me. You shall take residence in Locksley Manor and you will ensure that the peasants work and pay their taxes."

"But my Lord…" Gisborne began, but could instantly see by the Sheriffs expression that it was not a request. It was an order.

"Your family lost their lands didn't they? This is your chance to redeem the Gisborne name," came the reply, a reply which Vaysey knew would have the desired response. Gisborne nodded. Vaysey smiled and proceeded into the Great Hall. Below them sat a number of men, Lords of the local towns and villages that would fall under Vaysey's jurisdiction. All men, that is, save one. A young woman with shining chestnut hair, wearing a close fitting emerald coloured dress, stood behind an elderly man, staring intently up towards them. Vaysey looked from the woman to Gisborne and sighed.

"Lepers Gisborne. Women are lepers," he whispered. "Remember that."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was only the unnecessarily flamboyant way in which Sheriff Vaysey threw open the door at the top of the stairs, that caused Lady Marian of Knighton to look up in his direction. This new Sheriff certainly liked to be noticed. She had made very little effort to like him when he had first taken up what she considered to be her father's rightful position as Sheriff of Nottingham. She did not know the true reason for her father being replaced but she did not think that it was for any good purpose. Sir Edward chose to believe that his daughter had taken him at his word and accepted that it was his own decision, based on his increasingly poor health. She did not.

She was ready to turn away again, whilst casting a look of disdain that she had cultivated especially for Vaysey, but suddenly became aware that he was not alone. It was in that moment that she first made eye contact with Sir Guy of Gisborne. She regarded him coldly. After all, was he not simply another of the Sheriff's lackeys, although he was not what she would have expected. Examining every detail from his tall and slender frame to his thick dark hair, she concluded that he was handsome but dressing from head to toe in black leather made him seem austere. She wanted to reserve judgement, wondering if this one was different – but she knew that she would not. It was no longer in her nature. Her family had been betrayed once, and once was more than enough in her opinion. She watched as the Sheriff spoke to him softly, but never did the Sheriff take his eyes from hers. She put to use the look she had practiced and turned from the two men, placing her hand gently on the shoulder of her father who was seated before her.

Sir Edward hated to be in Nottingham Castle. This was the very room in which he had held Council not so very long ago but now it was cold and dark; not in aspect so much as in atmosphere, and this he put down to Vaysey. There was something not to be trusted about the new Sheriff although Sir Edward had yet to 'put his finger on it'. The punishments he handed out were severe and were becoming more so with each passing day but there was no denying that crime had decreased. Perhaps it was that his men had a little more free rein than Sir Edward would have allowed them and Vaysey was certainly more autocratic than he had been but even so, he refused to allow himself to criticise the man for running the county differently than he had, determined as he was to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had hoped that Marian would do the same. She had not. Today, even that gentle touch of his shoulder, his daughter's subtle show of support, was not enough to lift his spirits. This mysterious new arrival produced, in his wake, a feeling of trepidation in the old man. A sense that things were changing and that finally, Sheriff Vaysey was going to show his hand. Sir Edward turned slightly in his seat, enabling him to see Marian from the corner of his eye.

"Marian," he whispered to her, waiting for her to lean a little closer. "I must ask you to say nothing that might antagonise the Sheriff. I understand that you do not like him but anything you say to embarrass him in front of these people will not look well for us." He sensed Marian tense and wondered if he should, perhaps, have been a little more firm handed in her upbringing but it was too late for regret, not that he really did. He had a daughter that he could be proud of; a strong willed woman with a sharp intellect and a still sharper tongue but she was young, young enough to believe that she could change the world. A feeling he wished that he could have again.

"You know that I cannot promise, father, but I shall do my best – for you," she replied and straightened up again. Over the last months she had been a good deal more restrained, more cautious in vocalising her opinions; conscious of her father's deteriorating health and certainly not wishing to do anything that may exacerbate his quiet suffering. Sir Edward sighed and Marian was not sure if through despair or relief, but either way it brought a smile to her lips that lit her countenance.

That same smile vanquished any reluctance Gisborne had felt on entering Nottingham only a few moments ago. Suddenly the prospect of being Master of Locksley did not seem so unpleasant. Perhaps this was where his life would begin; the life that he was meant to have before the loss of the Gisborne lands, and his father. Here he could have land and status again. In time, he may find a wife, raise a family. He stopped. One thing at a time, he told himself. He did not even know who this woman was and yet he had allowed himself to become swept away. There were more important things. Vaysey had told him this on many occasions, told him how women will just get in the way...but she was beautiful and he suddenly realised that he had not taken his eyes off her since he entered the room. Inside he smiled as he heard his mother's voice chastising him for what he knew she would regard as his utter disrespect.

"My Lords!" Vaysey's voice rang out through the cavernous hall, jolting Gisborne from his daydreaming. Vaysey paused before producing a sort of grimace for a smile. "And Lady," he said with a slight patronising nod of his head in the direction of Marian. She did not meet his gaze. "Locksley Village is falling to ruin in the absence of the Earl of Huntingdon. Without leadership peasants become lazy. I have already been forced to...punish...several of them. That will all change now. My Lords, this is Sir Guy of Gisborne. The new Master of Locksley." The collection of elderly civic leaders cautiously glanced at one another before finally, one of the braver amongst them stood and asked to be heard.

"When the Earl returns..." he stammered. Vaysey stared at him, his eyes wild, daring him to continue. The speaker hesitated, just a moment too long.

"Well? Did you have something to say?" Vaysey asked with a menacing undertone that quickly returned the man to his seat. "Hmm, apparently not! Good. I do not like dissension in the ranks." He smiled broadly and the candlelight glinted off the bejewelled tooth he wore. Marian could feel her temper rising and even though unable to see his daughters face, Sir Edward knew what was to come.

"My Lord Sheriff, may I ask if the Locksley estate will be returned to its rightful owner on his return?" she said. Vaysey stared at her for a moment, apparently stunned that she had the audacity to speak, before slowly comprehending the reason for her question.

"Ah, of course. You and Huntingdon...mmm...heard about that. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about." he began, waving his finger and grinning. Marian forced herself to hold his gaze, even as a crimson mask of discomfiture warmed her cheeks. "Although he showed little concern for his estate or for you when he decided to leave...did he?" Vaysey concluded with a sneer. Marian could bear it no longer.

"My Lord Sheriff, really I must..." she began but Vaysey immediately cut her off.

"Must you?" he replied, finally raising his voice. "Really...Must you?" Vaysey was close now, so close that the curling wisps of hair at Marian's temples were stirred by his breath. Sir Edward watched the exchange in silence, praying that she would say no more. She did not.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The room was cold, draughty and miserable. The only heat or light afforded was that given by the flames as they crackled in the grate and cast murky shadows into the corners of the sparsely furnished room. Gisborne stood with his back against the door, waiting for his eyes become accustomed to the darkness before making his way across to a simple wooden chair beside the fire and dropping heavily onto it. Leaning forward he put his aching head into his hands and closed his eyes, wondering exactly what he had got himself into.

It was in this same seat that he awoke the next morning as the sunlight crept in through the window. His head was still pounding and his muscles were stiff and sore. A sharp knock on the door startled him and he jumped to his feet spinning around to face the intruder. A young boy skulked into the room carrying a tray, his hands shaking slightly at the sight of the unkempt and unshaven figure looming, dark, in the shadows.

"Your breakfast, My Lord," he mumbled as he placed the tray on the nearest available surface, knocking over the earthenware mug in his haste to absent himself from the room. The mug crashed to the stone floor and shattered into a dozen pieces. The young boy shook visibly now but Gisborne was in no mood to raise his voice. The child dropped to his knees and cleared up the shards before rushing from the room as quickly as his short, skinny legs would allow. Gisborne made his way to the bed and dipped his fingers into the long-since cold water in the pitcher which sat on a small bedside table. Not willing to wait for more, he removed his long, leather coat and black linen shirt and washed, for the first time in two days. The cold water felt good against his hot flesh, but it was not long before the chill of the day penetrated the room and sent shivers through his body. Pulling out a clean tunic from his trunk, he dressed and left the room, his breakfast untouched.

* * *

Marian pulled the comb through her tangled hair as she stared out of the window. The snow was falling more heavily now and there was little activity in Knighton as the villagers tried to keep warm indoors. The children, of course, were making the best of the inclement weather and it reminded her of when she was a girl, when she had tried to keep up with the boys, when Robin was with her. Sighing, she recalled the day that he had decided he must leave Locksley and England. They had sat together at dinner with Sir Edward but it had been clear from the moment of his arrival that he was not himself. He had made very little conversation and eaten very little, which was particularly out of character. Marian had tried to ask what was wrong and he had dismissed her, irritating her slightly but she had maintained her composure, sure that he would tell them in his own time. Finally, at the end of the meal he had announced that he would leave England and did not know when he would return. She had suddenly felt hollow, sad and lonely; gradually, as the months had gone by she had felt angry, until finally she had grudgingly accepted that he was doing what he felt he must.

"Lady Marian." Her maid's voice startled her from her reverie. "Your father has asked to speak with you."

Marian nodded. She knew that he was angry with her. He had scarcely spoken to her since the Council the previous day. He never raised his voice to her, in fact she had never seen him lose his temper at all, but both she and Sir Edward knew that the silence between them was worse for her than any scolding would be. She placed her comb on the table and made her way down the stairs. Sir Edward was waiting for her, pacing back and forth, wringing his hands, his forehead wrinkled with worry.

"Good morning Father," she said as she reached the foot of the stairs. Sir Edward turned sharply and took a deep breath.

"Marian, good morning," he replied, exhaling rapidly. They stood in silence for several moments before Marian finally broke the silence.

"Have you eaten yet, Father?" she asked. Sir Edward shook his head.

"I am not hungry Marian."

"But you must eat. You have been unwell," Marian chided, making her way to the table and withdrawing her father's chair.

"Marian, I have decided that you shall not accompany me to the Council of Nobles in the future."

"I see," she replied, taking her seat and picking at some bread. Finally, Sir Edward joined her.

"I do not wish you to annoy the sheriff. There is no telling what he may do and your outburst yesterday has proved beyond doubt that you are not able to hold your tongue."

"And would you have me silent and compliant? I am not that person, Father and I am sorry if that is disappointing to you but I cannot remain silent when there is such injustice. Locksley belongs to Robin and cannot simply be given over to whichever of the sheriff's friends he sees fit." Marian defended.

"You see? I am sorry Marian. There are ways of dealing with these sorts of people and you have no experience with such things. My mind is made up. Perhaps, if you can learn..."

"Learn to be silent. I think it unlikely Father. If you will excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite." Marian pushed back her chair and rushed from the house.

* * *

The Great Hall was empty aside from a young girl clearing the table of the remnants of the previous night's excesses. As Gisborne entered she quickly gathered all that she could and hurried from the room. Gisborne watched her for a moment, wondering why all the servants were so nervous around him. Dragging a chair to the fireplace, he sat and watched as the flames slowly consumed the logs, turning them to brittle black charcoal; the fire did little to heat the room as the snow continued for fall beyond the thick stone walls. He tried to recall the name of the beautiful young woman he had encountered within these same walls only yesterday, but while her face was as clear as if she was before him now, her name was not. He had been so captivated that he had heard very little – until Vaysey's attack on her of course. His brow furrowed as he thought over that moment, but he had little time to reflect on his superior's actions before the peace was shattered.

"Ah Gisborne, you are an early riser. All packed I trust."

"Packed, My Lord he asked, somewhat disconsolately, still unable to push Vaysey's cruel treatment of the young woman from his mind.

"Packed, Gisborne. You know...all your belongings in a trunk...ready to move on?" Vaysey replied, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"I was not aware that I was going anywhere My Lord."

"Locksley! I believe that I mentioned it yesterday." Vaysey sighed, rolling his eyes. "Where do I get them from?" he mumbled to himself.

"I am sorry My Lord. I meant that I was not aware that you intended for me to take residence immediately. I thought that you might wish to inform the people of Locksley...prepare them..." Gisborne replied.

"You really have no idea, do you Gizzy!" Vaysey chuckled. "Gizzy! I like that." He rounded suddenly and unexpectedly on his new lieutenant. "We do not 'prepare' the peasants. We do not care if they like it or not. They have a new master and they will just have to put up with it. Locksley is now your land." Again Vaysey grinned, this time so broadly it unnerved Guy slightly. "Oh come on Gizzy! You should be pleased, perhaps even grateful. You always wanted land in the Gisborne name again and now I am giving you that opportunity." Vaysey stood behind his new lieutenant and raised himself on tiptoe until his mouth was level with Guy's ear. "You never know, if you're a good boy I might even see that you are made Earl of Huntingdon," he whispered. Gisborne pulled his head away, clearly uncomfortable at the unnecessarily close proximity of his employer.

"Locksley will not be my land. When Huntingdon returns to England. he will reclaim his estate and I must relinquish it to him," Gisborne replied.

Vaysey stood before him, his eyes narrowed and his mouth open as if ready to speak, but instead he began to chuckle.

"Assuming, of course, that he _does_ return. Let me worry about the details Gisborne, there's a good boy. You lack...imagination. Just you pack your belongings." Vaysey replied.

Gisborne nodded and headed for the wooden staircase out of the hall. "Gisborne, I will accompany you. I think. I shall enjoy seeing the look on the faces of those...peasants...when I introduce their new Lord and Master," he chuckled.

Gisborne sighed.

"Yes, my Lord," he replied.

* * *

A/N - special thanks to Whytewytch


	4. Chapter 3

To say that the servants at Locksley Manor were unprepared for the arrival of a new lord and master would be to seriously understate the case. Thornton was overseeing the chopping and distribution of firewood in a barn near to the manor when he saw Vaysey's carriage rattling up the frozen dirt road. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, wondering what the weasel-faced man could want with them. The sheriff had already sent his guards through the village to relieve the peasants of nearly every coin they had under the guise of a tax collection, leaving most of them without food and without the means to heat the simple buildings in which they lived. Thornton had done his best to live up to the promise he made to the Earl of Huntingdon when the young lord had left England; a promise to help the villagers as much as he could, but Vaysey was not making it easy. Finally regaining the use of his legs, Thornton rushed to the front of the manor and waited to greet the sheriff.

Sir Guy stared slightly nervously at the village that was now to be his – at least for as long as the Earl of Huntingdon was away. He had no experience with the running of such an estate; a fact that still grated on every fibre of his being. He had seen his father stripped of the land that should have been his to inherit and heard his mother speak frequently of the Gisborne curse -- never more so than in the days before her death. Sir Guy was not a superstitious man -- he was too intelligent for that, but that did not prevent the curse springing into his mind when he thought about finally having land of his own, here at Locksley.

"Cheer up Gisborne. You're nearly home," Vaysey said as that disturbing grin spread across his lips. "Not worried by a gaggle of filthy peasants are you?"

"Of course not, My Lord. It is simply that I have little experience in... such matters." Gisborne replied quickly, determined not to show the apprehension he felt.

Vaysey chuckled.

"Fear, Gisborne! I have found that they are far more co-operative when they are afraid. Hang a few if necessary. A bit of torture, the odd beating...you get the idea. Prove a point. Make your mark. They'll soon comply. Huntingdon was too soft anyway." Vaysey mumbled in an almost dismissive manner. "Ever heard the expression 'You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar'?"

"It was something my mother used to say when I was a boy." Gisborne thought aloud.

"Hmm...women," Vaysey muttered. "Well, it is a fact but ask yourself this. Do you really want to be surrounded by flies? A clue? No!" he declared as the carriage juddered to a halt. Vaysey unceremoniously pushed past his travelling companion and climbed from the carriage. Thornton took a deep breath and approached, ready to speak but suddenly silenced by the appearance of the second man emerging from the curtain-covered doorway; recovering himself he addressed the visitors.

"Good Morning my Lord Sheriff," he greeted, with a slight bow of his head, but without taking his eyes from Vaysey. He knew little of the man but enough to know you never gave him that sort of advantage.

"Thorberry isn't it?" Vaysey asked, caring little whether it was or was not.

"Thornton, My Lord," the old man corrected.

"Yes, quite so," Vaysey responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This is your new master." Gisborne hesitated for a moment, but the glare from Vaysey made it clear what was expected. He stepped forward and stared directly into Thornton's eyes.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne," Guy stated simply.

"A pleasure to meet you My Lord," Thornton bowed once again, but his expression displayed no pleasure at all "Welcome to Locksley. May I show you inside?" Thornton did not wait for an answer before he made for the house. Gisborne glanced quickly around, suddenly aware that they were the subject of some scrutiny from the villagers who simply stood staring.

"Idle, Gisborne. That's the problem with peasants. Make sure they don't have time to stand around staring," Vaysey advised before following Thornton. Inside, the furniture was covered over. Thornton quickly removed the coverings from the chairs nearest to the fireplace, at which a young girl was struggling to light the logs.

"Good sized room Gisborne. Perhaps you should host a small gathering for the local nobility. Make your mark. Let them know who's Lord of the Manor, so to speak." Vaysey said, waving his hand about the room as if to emphasize his point.

"Do you think that would be appropriate, My Lord? I am here only to care for the village in the absence..." Gisborne began, but Vaysey rounded on him, bringing his objections to an abrupt halt.

"I should not be too concerned about that Gisborne. I hear that he is with King Richard."

"The Crusades?"

"I imagine there will be many martyrs in the Holy Land. Establish your authority here Gisborne, in case Locksley is one of them."

"But if he is not..."

"It is a long and dangerous journey back from the Holy Land, Gisborne. Anything could happen." Vaysey smiled, a wicked knowing smile that sent a shiver down Gisborne's spine but finally brought him to understand just what sort of a man he had given his life to. "A party then! Three days should be enough to make the arrangement shouldn't it?" the sheriff continued as if his last comment meant nothing at all. "Good. I shall leave you to it." Within moments Vaysey had gone. Guy looked about him at the covered furniture, wanting to pull off the dust sheets but still feeling like an intruder.

"Is there anything I can get for you My Lord?" Thornton asked as he emerged from the shadows. Guy spun around and stared at the old man for a moment before indicating in the direction of the sheets.

"Remove these. If this place is to be ready for a party in only three days there is a lot of work to do." Guy muttered, his voice becoming less audible as he thought of the argumentative, chestnut –haired girl from the council and finally having the chance to meet her.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Marian paced to and fro before the fire, intermittently shaking her head and sighing. Occasionally she would stop and stare at her father, whose expression was one of steely determination. Marian was sure that she would not win, but she was not about to admit defeat without making her thoughts and feelings very clear indeed.

"How can you even consider attending, Father?" she demanded at last.

"I must consider our position, Marian. The sheriff has powerful friends and I do not wish to do anything to annoy him. This gathering is his idea, I am sure of it," her father replied.

"But it is to be held at Locksley. This 'Gisborne' has taken Robin's land and by attending we shall be endorsing the sheriff's actions," Marian cried, her eyes wild and her temper barely simmering beneath the surface.

"We shall attend, Marian. That is my final word on the matter. Robin will return and his land will be restored to him. It is the law." Edward spoke as sternly as he could manage but he had always found it most difficult to reprimand his daughter, the one remaining light in his life.

"The law?" Marian repeated with an ironic chuckle, which sent a chill down her father's spine. "The law means nothing in Nottingham any longer. People are starving, they cannot pay their taxes and they are imprisoned, even hanged for it. The sheriff considers himself the law and he is a sadistic man who takes pleasure in watching these people suffer."

"Yes, and that is precisely why we must play his game for the moment. We must bide our time, Marian. I believe that order will be restored when King Richard returns but until then we must stand by Vaysey and stay safe. It is the only way we can help the villagers."

"That may be your way, father, but it is not mine." Marian replied quietly before turning and leaving. A sense of foreboding gripped Edward and he began to wish that Marian had made good on those many threats, made during childhood when she was not allowed to do just as she pleased, in which she swore she would run away to a convent.

* * *

Guy of Gisborne blinked as he opened his eyes. The winter sun was gleaming in through the window, directly into his face. Turning over he swung his legs from beneath the covers and to the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before stretching his tired body. There was no fire lit in his room but it was not cold. The water in the pitcher, on the other hand, was close to freezing and he quickly decided against pouring the contents over his naked torso. He was not sure if it was coincidence or the sound of creaking floorboards, but within moments of him rising there was a knock on his door. He called for the visitor to enter and was quickly confronted by a suddenly embarrassed young girl carrying a fresh pitcher. She hurriedly placed it on a nearby table, her cheeks burning, but her eyes desperate to look at the handsome man again. She hesitated for a moment at the door and asked if there was anything further that he wanted.

"Food...and water," he replied, suddenly aware of how thirsty he was. The girl nodded and fled.

Guy walked to the window and stared out. The snow had fallen more heavily during the night with drifts almost to the windows of some of the peasants' dwellings. The younger children had been set the task of removing it from doorways using makeshift shovels and seemed to derive some pleasure from a task that was turning their little hands scarlet with cold. Guy wondered if such inclement weather might prevent his guests attending his gathering later that day. Another knock startled him. Again he called out to enter. This time Thornton pushed open the door carrying the requested meal.

"Good morning, sir," he said in a cheery manner that was not reflected in his eyes.

"Good morning, Thornton. Is everything prepared for this afternoon?" Guy asked. Thornton assured him that it was all on schedule and that all the necessary provisions had been delivered. "And everyone is attending?" Again Thornton assured him that they had had no word to the contrary. Guy nodded.

"Will there be anything else?" Thornton asked. Guy shook his head as he contemplated the food on the plate before him.

* * *

Guy had never considered himself to be the nervous type but as he watched the carriage of the first of his guests lumber towards Locksley Manor through the snow he felt a definite pang. The sheriff had arrived early, as Guy had expected, and had positioned himself beside the window, commentating on each arrival, giving details of the occupants of the carriage and his opinion of them in no uncertain terms. Thus far, he had not a good word to say about any of the guests.

"Ah, Sir Edward of Knighton and that daughter of his!" Vaysey whispered on the arrival of another carriage. "He is a weak-minded old fool and that daughter of his - Mary...Martha...something like that - she does not know when to keep her mouth shut. Watch her, Gisborne. Women are trouble. It's a pity her father did not die some time ago. We could have sent her to a nunnery where she could take a vow of silence. Lepers!" he concluded before forcing a smile to his lips in time for their entrance.

Edward assisted his daughter from the carriage and whispered to her. A short but, he thought, necessary word of warning. Marian said nothing, but a smile fluttered to her lips. Guy tried not to stare as they headed towards the house.

"Sir Edward, Lady Marian. I am delighted that you could join me," Guy said. "May I offer you something to drink?"

"So, how are you finding your new estate?" Marian asked him once the sheriff had moved on. Guy was somewhat taken by surprise by her boldness.

"I am only taking care of it until its true owner returns," he replied, recovering himself well enough to recall her concern at the Council of Nobles. The answer seemed to satisfy her.

"It is a particularly harsh winter for those people," she said looking out to the peasants as they collected firewood and drew water from the well. Guy nodded, not quite knowing what to say.

"Well, now that you are here I am sure that they will find the assistance they require," she added with a smile. Guy wondered for a moment if this was a statement or a question and found himself staring at her again. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and he was almost sure that he detected a thaw in the icy barrier that seemed to be between them...or perhaps that was his imagination; he prayed that it was not.


	6. Chapter 5

Vaysey regarded Gisborne carefully as his conversation with Lady Marian appeared to move from the small talk of such gatherings to a more specific exchange. He could hear nothing of what was being said, but he recognised the signs well enough to understand that this woman...this...leper...could prove more of a distraction to his new recruit than he would have liked. Extricating himself from the sycophantic noblemen who were flocking about him expressing their gratitude for one thing or another, he approached Gisborne, smiling. Vaysey noticed the alteration in Gisborne's expression from warm and open to more frosty and most definitely guarded.

"Please excuse me. My father has been unwell of late. I should see that he returns home," Lady Marian said quietly as the sheriff approached. Gisborne smiled at her, seething inside at his new master's intrusion.

Vaysey sucked air in through his teeth and shook his head. "You want to watch that one," he said. Gisborne glanced over his shoulder as Marian reached her father and took his arm. She appeared to whisper something in his ear and the pair made for the door.

"Old fool," Vaysey muttered.

* * *

The snow lingered, deep and frozen, for several more weeks before gradually the white blanket revealed the slushy muddy earth beneath. Patches of snow remained in the more sheltered parts of the village of Locksley where the weak winter sun had struggled to reach, but after so many weeks of such harsh conditions, even the children were no longer interested and it went untouched. The unforgiving weather had caused a good deal of damage to the buildings, with thatch needing to be replaced and rotting wood leaving holes in the already draughty cottages but Gisborne had been so little at Locksley that all this was yet to be brought to his attention and so the villagers attempted some basic repairs themselves.

Vaysey had been sure to keep his lieutenant busy. He had seen the way he had regarded Marian and he was quite determined that Gisborne was not going to be distracted by a woman – especially a woman like Lady Marian of Knighton. Gisborne, for his part, had been reminded of Marian at every council meeting. Her conspicuous absence worried him. He had resolved many times to enquire of Sir Edward as to the health of his daughter but under Vaysey's watchful eye, such conversation proved impossible.

A fire blazed in the grate of the Council chamber but was doing very little to heat the cavernous room. Gisborne's footfalls on the stone floor echoed as he approached the table, laden with rolls of parchment. Dropping them onto the dark, split oak surface he recalled Vaysey's instruction to guard them with his life and had a sudden desire to throw them into the fire. Turning purposefully towards the window and away from temptation, he was suddenly startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Instantly his hand found the hilt of his sword, ready to dispatch the intruder.

"Forgive me Sir Guy," came an elderly voice as its owner stepping from the shadows. "I did not intend to startle you."

"Sir Edward," Gisborne replied with a mixture of annoyance and relief. "I was not aware that anybody had arrived. I should have been informed."

"I do not believe that anybody knew that I was here. I am very early. I apologise. I had business in Nottingham and saw little sense in returning to Knighton. I do hope that it does not inconvenience you," Sir Edward replied.

"No," Guy replied. "The sheriff will join us shortly." A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed as the two men tried to find other things to look at or do before finally Guy broke the silence, seizing the opportunity of asking the question that had been burning within him.

"We have not had the pleasure of seeing Lady Marian at the Council meetings for some weeks, Sir Edward. I do hope that she is in good health?"

A sudden relief washed over him. It was done and Guy waited with apprehension for an answer. A hundred different thoughts ran through Guy's mind. Perhaps his admiration of Lady Marian had been more obvious than he had intended and Sir Edward was deliberately keeping her from him. Perhaps she was already betrothed – or married! She was certainly of an age where she ought to be married. Had the sheriff not mentioned something about the Earl of Huntington? No, surely he would have heard about such as thing in his weeks in Nottingham. Suddenly he realised that Sir Edward had begun speaking.

"Thank you for your concern Sir Guy. The winter weather does not agree with my daughter and she has chosen to remain at home. She finds such meetings...tedious," Sir Edward replied, choosing his words carefully.

"I see," Guy replied, but something about his tone suggested to Sir Edward that the man in black did not 'see' at all. "Please convey my regards to Lady Marian. Perhaps I may be permitted..." Suddenly the heavy door flew open and Vaysey made his way into the room. He looked from Gisborne to Sir Edward and forced a smile to his lips – a joviality that was betrayed by the expression in his eyes.

"Ah, Sir Edward! Punctual as always," he said through gritted teeth then turned to his lieutenant. "Gisborne, go and see what has happened to our other guests."

As Gisborne turned to leave Sir Edward called out after him.

"I shall tell my daughter that you were asking after her health," he said. Gisborne smiled and nodded casting a quick glance in the direction of Vaysey. The sheriff rolled his eyes and glared back at Gisborne with a mixture of disappointment and disgust. Sighing Gisborne left the room, closing the door carefully behind him.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

For the best part of the return journey from Nottingham, Sir Edward had debated whether or not it was wise to alert Marian to Sir Guy's interest in her welfare. He knew all too well that she had taken a dislike to the young knight on the basis of his working for Vaysey but, Edward reflected, the concern displayed by the young man had seemed genuine enough. He wondered if Gisborne would make a suitable son in law. _Goodness knows_, Edward mused to himself, _she seems little enough inclined to marry and she is not getting any younger._ Quickly, he shook the thought from his mind. They knew very little about the mysterious man in black other than the fact he had no land and no family; very little, in fact, to recommend him as a husband at all.

As the carriage drew into Knighton village, he could just make out the crouched figure of his daughter as she tended the vegetable patch she had nurtured over the previous year. She had told her father that it would be nice to be able to provide for themselves, but few of the vegetables had made their way into the kitchen at Knighton Hall. When he had questioned her about the lack, she had put it down to a bad harvest but Edward had noticed that the villagers had made it so the spring looking healthier than usual. Quietly, and in his own way, Sir Edward was proud of his daughter; her generous nature and her free spirit. All the same, it was these same qualities that gave her father the feeling that she was slipping away. The free spirit was gradually becoming willfulness and her generosity akin to charity – something the new sheriff wholly disagreed with.

Marian stood on hearing the carriage clatter towards the house and a smile lit her face as her father descended. He seemed more frail with each day, and with the passing of each day, Marian fought against showing her father the concern she knew he would not welcome.

"You left very early this morning, Father," she said in a tone that Edward instantly recognised as a reprimand. He took her hand and kissed her cheek.

"I had a great deal to do before the Council met," he replied, smiling.

"You must be hungry. I am told that you did not eat breakfast before you left. There are eggs and meat on the table. I shall join you in a moment," she said. Edward smiled and headed for the door. Marian had returned her attentions to her little garden again when Edward turned.

"Sir Guy enquired after your health and asked that I convey his regards," he said.

Marian looked back to her father, her expression one of surprise and her mouth slightly open as if hoping the right words would find their own way from her lips.

"That was very kind of him," she managed at last.

"Perhaps he is not what we expected." Edward regarded his daughter closely.

"Perhaps." Marian smiled and rubbed her hands together to loosen the soil. "Come, I need to wash before we eat." She took her father's arm and led him inside.

XXX

Locksley was not home. Despite this being the place Sir Guy returned to when his duties did not keep him at the castle, it was not his home. Thornton was polite and the servants were mostly silent and perhaps afraid. It was not the household he had envisioned for himself – his Gisborne. Sighing, Guy dismounted and handed the horse's reins to the waiting stable boy. The house looked cold and unwelcoming with the only visible light shining from one small window. Slowly he entered, removed his long leather coat, and dropped into a large chair beside the fire. Thornton took a flat wooden plate containing a slab of pigeon pie from one of the more nervous serving girls and placed it on a low table beside Gisborne before pouring some ale. Gisborne took the cup gratefully and drank deeply.

"Well?" Guy asked as Thornton hovered.

"I wondered if I might speak with you about the village, sir?" Thornton began. "The winter has been difficult and has left a good deal of damage in its wake."

Guy looked up at the elderly retainer for the first time, frowning slightly. "Speak your mind," he snapped, not in the mood for Thornton's cryptic conversation.

"They are happy to effect repairs themselves but resources are limited," Thornton continued, slightly irked by Guy's tetchiness. Guy looked out of the window towards the village and at the pinpricks of light that cut through the darkness. His thoughts were drawn back to his conversation with Marian, and the warmth in her voice as she expressed her confidence that he would assist the peasants. When he turned back to Thornton, the old man noticed that something about his master's expression had altered, softened.

"Do what you think is necessary. Keep me informed." Guy reached for his food. "Is there anything else?"

Thornton had always considered himself a good judge of character, but Gisborne had been so little in Locksley that the old servant had not yet got the measure of him, and so approached every conversation with caution and a little apprehension.

"One small matter, my lord," he began. "One of the kitchen girls has asked for permission to visit her mother."

Silence fell heavily on the room and Thornton wondered if he should perhaps have picked a better time. Gisborne was silent for a few moments, then frowned.

"Bring the girl to me," he said. Thornton started to object, suggesting that there was no need for Guy to waste his time with such trivial matters, but his master was most insistent and Thornton was obliged to acquiesce.

A few short moments later a young girl followed Thornton into the room. Gisborne noticed that her tiny white hands trembled and she was reluctant to step from Thornton's shadow. However, Gisborne gave her no option as he sent Thornton away with a sharp "Thank you," and a dismissive wave of his hand. The girl stared fixedly at the floor and swallowed hard. None of the servants had really got to know their new master, but the very fact that he was one of Vaysey's men was enough to evoke fear.

"You have asked to visit your mother. She is not here, in the village?" Gisborne enquired.

The girl did not raise her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but could make no sound, so simply shook her head.

"Is she unwell?" Guy turned away and wandered to the fireplace where he stared at the flames licking at the rear of the grate. He did not see the girl nod and rounded on her. "I asked if she was unwell."

"Yes, my lord," the girl squeaked.

"The winter has been hard for everyone," he muttered. "I am sure that she will be pleased to see you."

"I am her only child, my lord. My brothers and sisters are dead. And she loves the flowers I take to her," the girl replied, finding confidence from somewhere deep within her.

"Very well. You may go," Gisborne resumed his seat and picked up his mug of ale again. Suddenly he cried out for the girl to stop. She turned slowly, quivering once again.

"You take flowers to your mother when she is unwell?" Gisborne asked.

"Yes my lord. Cowslips. She is most fond of cowslips," the girl replied. Slowly Gisborne nodded and then waved his hand to dismiss her.

Early the following morning and with a great deal of concern for the delicate cargo concealed within his leather coat, Sir Guy rode into the village of Knighton as quickly as the muddy ground would allow. He dismounted carefully, extracted his gift, and approached the open door of Knighton Hall. Inside Sir Edward was instructing one of the servants and in the far corner, beside the window, Marian sat watching the proceedings. She was the first to notice their visitor, who suddenly looked away.

"Sir Guy," she said, rising from her seat and walking towards him. Her chestnut hair was loose and flowed in gentle waves down her back. He was relieved to find that she was not confined to her room.

"Lady Marian," he replied in a half apologetic mumble. "I heard...your father mentioned..."

Sir Edward quickly took up the conversation. "I informed Sir Guy that the winter weather did not suit you and had prevented you from joining me at council," he said with a look that conveyed to his daughter all she needed to know.

"I hope that you are feeling better. The days are warmer I think," Sir Guy continued.

"I am very well, thank you," Marian replied and glanced down at his hand. "Flowers?"

"Oh." Guy raised his hand and offered them to her. "I understand that...I thought that they may cheer you. Cowslips," he replied.

"So they are. Thank you," Marian replied, trying to not to be quite so amused at this turn of events. Before her stood more a boy than a man - awkward and nervous. He was not at all the confident lieutenant he appeared to be at Nottingham Castle. "Will you sit, Sir Guy?"

Guy nodded and thanked her before following her to a seat where a young serving girl poured them both a drink. Guy picked up his goblet and placed it down again without ever bringing it to his lips.

"How is Locksley?" Marian ventured at length. Sir Edward cast her a reproachful glance but Marian felt a little put out. Her enquiry had been genuine after all.

"The winter caused some degree of damage but I have authorised repairs and I believe the properties can be made good again," he replied.

"And what of the people?" she asked.

Guy suddenly had the distinct impression that he was being tested.

"They have fared better than their homes I think," he replied, his lips curling into a smile. With the slightest nod of her head the conversation was ended and Guy felt that he had won the first round with this complex young woman.

"I should find some water for the flowers," Marian said, rising from her seat. Guy raised his cup to his lips and quickly drank down the contents, his tense muscles relaxing slightly as he watched her vanish into the rear of the house.


End file.
